by Cheree Alsop
One, two, and then three older werewolves ducked through the opening of my den. I backed up to the far wall, only feet away from them, and held the ham hock against my chest.
“It’s mine. Fifty-four gave it to me,” I said. I barely recognized my own voice as the possessive snarl of the wolf inside of me answered as well.
“Oh, Fifty-four gave it to him,” the first werewolf said to the others. “So does that mean it’s his?”
“It means it’s mine,” a lanky werewolf replied, stepping forward. He held out a hand that was missing a finger. “Hand it over, lobo.”
I did the one thing I knew I shouldn’t do. As the three older boys watched, I brought the meat to my mouth and took another bite. It was foolish. I knew it would be, but I had bargained for the meat and I deserved it.
The immediate rush and tackle said otherwise. I quickly found myself flattened to the floor with the three older werewolves sitting on top of me. My face was smashed into the rough ground of the cave until a muffled yelp escaped me. The werewolves ignored my pain and instead passed the ham hock back and forth, taking bites and talking as if they were in the cafeteria. I tried to struggle, but they were much larger.
My wolf side growled to be set free, but to phase into wolf form and attack an elder outside of the training rings was against the rules. The last thing I needed was to be thrown in solitary again because of my temper. As it was, it took every ounce of my self-control to sit and wait, listening while they ate my prize and discussed rounds and missions as if I was nothing but a cushion for them to sit upon.
“Guess we should get back,” the oldest one finally said.
They rose and I was able to draw a full breath into my lungs. I pushed up to all fours and watched them leave.
“Thanks for the meal, mutt!” the lanky werewolf called out.
“Yeah, it was very filling,” the first said.
They wandered away laughing, their sounds of their bare feet on the tunnel floor loud as they scuffled amongst themselves.
“What should we do with the bone?” the third werewolf’s voice called back.
“I know just where it should go,” the first werewolf replied.
Later that night, I stood ringside with the other werewolves my age. We watched older werewolves fighting in the ring. It was brutal. Nobody held back. The healing powers of our heritage meant that broken bones, bloody faces, torn muscles, and lacerations were all a part of the nightly showdown.
I winced when a haymaker sent the smaller werewolf in the ring into a full turn before he landed on the ground.
“Forty-nine is down by knock-out,” a werewolf with a deep voice called out.
Other werewolves assigned to the duty dragged the fallen one out from beneath the ropes.
“Fifty-four against the winner,” another werewolf said.
Fifty-four walked over to the werewolf and whispered something in his ear. The werewolf’s eyes lit up with interest and he wrote something on the paper he held.
“Amendment,” the werewolf called out. “We have a substitute by order of a favor.”
A tingling sensation ran up my spine. To my horror, the big werewolf turned and pointed at me.
“You’re turn, whelp,” Fifty-four said. “I’m calling in your favor.”
Hands grabbed my arms and hauled me to the ring. They shoved me roughly inside where I fell to my knees. I pushed back to my feet and stared up at the towering werewolf who had defeated Forty-nine. Blood trickled from a cut that had opened his eyebrow, but he didn’t appear to feel it. The werewolf grinned down at me and banged his fists together. The blood on his knuckles definitely wasn’t his own.
I turned in a desperate attempt to ask Fifty-four to revoke the favor, then froze at the sight beyond the ring.
Fifty-four leaned against a pillar with several other werewolves I recognized. Laughing at a comment from one of them, he brought something to his mouth and chewed on it. My stomach tightened when I realized it was the ham hock. Fifty-four caught my eyes and lifted the bone. His gaze gleamed in the firelight.
A footstep moved behind me and I ducked as I spun back in an attempt to avoid the blow, but it caught me behind the ear and dropped me faster than Forty-nine. I closed my eyes with the image of Fifty-four and the ham hock burned into my brain. I vowed to never owe anyone anything ever again.
Chapter Five
The sound of truck tires on asphalt made me open my eyes. I pushed to my feet and crossed the dark lawn to where Virgo slid to a stop in a rush of dust.
“Where’s your shoes?” Virgo asked when I climbed onto the passenger seat.
I glanced at my feet. “I forgot them.”
He shook his head. “Werewolves.”
His scent filled the air, but something was off. “Why do you smell like a skunk?”
A hint of red touched Virgo’s cheeks when he said, “Because goblins don’t like the smell of stinkweed, and we don’t know what we’re up against.”
“Nobody likes the smell of stinkweed!” I replied. “Why do you guess it’s goblins? They can’t read.”
“Are you sure?” Virgo asked.
I nodded. “Pretty sure.”
He gave a sigh of relief and rolled down his window. Before I could ask what he was up to, he pulled a sandwich bag full of stinkweed out of his pocket and tossed it out to the darkness.
“That’s better,” he said, sitting back.
I shook my head. “Warlocks.”
I held out what I had brought from the Willards.
“You brought me string cheese in a time of crisis?” Virgo asked as he hurtled us back up the road toward his bookstore.
“It’s comfort food,” I said, repeating what James had told me.
Virgo shot me a surprised look. “I didn’t think werewolves went for comfort food. From my observation, they’re sort of an eat everything and ask questions later type.”
That made me smile. “It’s a survival instinct. Wolves in the wild do it all the time.” I held up the string cheese. “But this is to be enjoyed.”
He unwrapped it with a show of impressive dexterity as he maneuvered us around a tight corner and into town. He then lifted the cheese to take a big bite the way I had done.
“Don’t ruin it,” I warned him.
Virgo rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. You’re like my sister and have to eat every string until there’s nothing left.”
“It’s the only way,” I said. “Trust me.”
He shook his head but proceeded to peel a strand from the side of the cheese. “I don’t have time for this,” he muttered as he placed it on his tongue.
“Is it better?” I asked curiously.
He frowned, then nodded. “For some reason, yeah.”
I sat back with a smile that refused to leave my face despite whatever situation we were rolling into.
“Look,” Virgo whispered when he pulled to a stop in front of the Inking Post, the only bookstore in Brickwell. “See how they broke the little window by the door. That’s how they unlocked it.”
He had hastily taped a piece of cardboard over the small broken window before leaving to get me. It looked like a missing tooth amid the rest of the glass.
Virgo sighed and climbed out of the truck. “I’m just glad they didn’t smash the front window. The stained glass would cost a fortune to replace.”
I had never had to worry about the cost of replacing something someone else had broken. Guilt at the window I had smashed through at the Willards’ on my first night still niggled in the back of my thoughts. The window pane that revealed the front of the warlock’s store was cleverly crafted in blue, red, gold, and green glass depicting an old man reading to two children in front of a fireplace.
The fact that whoever had broken in hadn’t taken that as an easy entrance meant we were dealing with something more intelligent than a ghoul or goblin. Perhaps they had some heart or knew that in breaking Virgo’s prized stained glass, they would have an angry warlock on their trai
l.
Virgo unlocked the front door. “Look. I didn’t even clean up. They picked up the glass and stacked it that way.”
I studied the tiny pile on the ledge below the window. Someone had taken great care not to be a burden. Perhaps they hoped that by leaving as little damage as possible, he wouldn’t get the police involved. “Do you think cops could lift fingerprints from them?”
“Maybe,” Virgo said. “But I was hoping you could get a scent from it and trail whoever it is.”
I let out a breath. The witches may have saved my life, but the reminder that they had also been the ones to shoot me was quick to follow. Away from their house of magic, it was clearer to see how much they did to protect their coven regardless of the impact it had on others. I hoped Isley was alright.
“Sorry,” Virgo replied quietly. “I forgot you can’t phase.”
I shoved the emotions away. “Maybe we can find another clue. Where did you keep the book?”
“Back here where it was the first day,” he replied, leading the way through the shelves. “Nobody’s ever messed with it. I figured it was safer hidden among the books than in some place by itself.”
I stopped in front of the shelf titled ‘The Universe’ and studied the empty place at the end where Parakin Prisma’s book had been. I couldn’t argue with Virgo’s reasoning. The title ‘Craft’ was innocuous enough to prevent most from picking it up. Whoever had broken into his store had known exactly what he or she was getting.
I crouched and studied the empty spot without touching it. The next book, a heavy tome entitled, ‘The Universe Adrift’, leaned into the space as though relieved not to stand straight any longer.
A faint smell, barely a whiff, touched my nose. I recognized the scent of dry erase markers and formaldehyde. My mind raced to connect the two.
I stood up. “Virgo, is there a school close—”
My question was cut off when Virgo’s cellphone rang.
He glanced at the name on the screen. “It’s my mom.” He put it to his ear. “Hey, Mom. I can’t talk right now. Someone—” He paused. “Wait, what?”
I heard her say, “Isley’s gone. We need you and Zev to get here right away!”
I hurried to the door without waiting for Virgo’s reply. My heart raced as I waited for the warlock to lock the store and meet me at the truck. A million questions ran through my mind. Was she kidnapped? Had the dark coven found them? Had she run away? Had the witches done something else to her? Was she hurt?
The last question repeated over and over in my mind in time to the hum of the tires on the road. I kept hearing Madam Doxy’s warning that somebody would die if they confronted the dark coven. Everyone was in danger, and the witches were to blame.
“Nobody came to the house?” I asked again before I could stop myself.
“She didn’t say,” Virgo answered for the third time. He glanced at me as he raced up the asphalt. “Zev, we’ll find her.”
I stared out the side window, my eyes searching the trees as if I could spot her out there in the dark.
By the time Virgo pulled up to the witches’ house in the middle of the crammed neighborhood at the edge of Township, light was beginning to cross the horizon. Clouds were crowding the eastern sky thick enough to herald a coming storm. We slammed the doors and ran up the meager sidewalk. I barely gave the enchantments a second glance when they changed to the fine lawns and pillars of the mansion.
Mrs. Stein pulled open the door before we reached it.
“She’s not here,” Virgo’s mother said. “We’ve checked everywhere.” She led the way inside. “She either ran away or was taken.”
“You don’t know?” I couldn’t hide the exasperation in my voice. “How is that possible?”
Madam Anna met us in the same room where they had been chanting around the table. The rushes were still on the floor, but the runes that had been drawn on the table’s surface had been erased.
“We put her in the guest room to sleep,” the witch explained. “She was so exhausted, and with her new powers, there’s no telling how her body is going to react.”
“We gave her the tea,” Madam Doxy said, her face filled with worry. “She should have slept.”
Madam Henrietta rose from the chair across the table. “But when I went to check on her, the window in her room was open and she was gone.”
“Come on. We’ll show you,” Madam Doxy said, motioning for us to follow her.
“Was it forced open from the outside?” Virgo asked as we walked up a finely carpeted hallway hung with pictures of men and women in elegant suits and dresses.
The hair on the back of my neck rose as the feeling of being watched aroused my fight or flight instincts, but when I looked back at the paintings, their eyes averted from mine. A shudder rushed over my skin and I hurried to catch up to the others.
“It wasn’t forced open,” Madam Anna said. “There’s a latch that can only be released from the inside. She must have done it herself.”
She wrung her long-fingered hands in a motion that put her far out of the image of the witch who had taken such charge over questioning me and saving Isley’s life the night before. Instead, she appeared to be a worried school matron concerned over the disappearance of one of her charges. I told myself it was all an act, but her anxiety touched her eyes when she looked back at me.
“She must be so scared out there by herself. You’ve got to bring her back to us,” the witch pleaded.
“I’ll do everything I can,” I replied.
I hoped I wasn’t being tricked into something. Madam Doxy’s joke with the dog collar still rankled. But I had promised to do whatever they asked if they would save Isley’s life. At least on this topic, we were on the same page.
Isley’s scent of lavender, sunshine, and the lingering smell of haircare products from all of the time she spent styling hair at her mother’s salon filled the room. The blankets on the bed were rumpled in a hasty attempt to make it. For some reason, that made my heart go out to her. It was as if she was trying to not be a bother and wanted to leave without causing more problems. I knew the feeling.
I walked to the window and peered out. The lawns of the mansion swept away to the tree line.
“Is there a chance she’s hiding on the property?” Virgo asked.
Madam Henrietta was the one who answered. “No. We have wards along the perimeter. That’s how we knew she was gone. She tripped one on the south side. We can only assume she’s heading back to Brickwell.”
“On foot?” Virgo said. “That’s a long walk.”
Madam Anna nodded. “A lot can happen between here and there.”
I shoved the window up and was about to climb out when Mrs. Stein stopped me.
“You’re going to go like that?” she asked. “Barefoot and in human form?”
I glanced at the other witches. Their troubled gazes didn’t let on whether they knew how the silver had affected me. My wolf side warned not to reveal any weaknesses. They had already shot me when I was at full capacity. Who knew what they would do if they knew they had a werewolf who couldn’t phase? I didn’t need them putting me down out of some misguided sense of compassion.
Virgo jumped in before I could reply.
“We need to follow her tracks and come up with a plan,” he said. “I can’t be where Zev needs me if he can’t tell me where to go. He’ll phase when he’s sure of her destination.”
All of the witches, including his mother, nodded as if his reasoning made sense. Relief filled me that I knew showed on my face when he glanced my way. He motioned toward the window.
“Let’s go.”
We climbed out of the window and maneuvered around the bushes that grew beneath it. Both of us kept an unspoken silence until we reached the trees. The tension eased from my shoulders as soon as we were out of sight of the witches who watched us from the house.
Virgo glanced back to ensure that we were far enough away before he asked, “Do you believe their story?”
“About her running away?” I replied.
He shook his head. “About just being concerned for her safety.”
I wasn’t sure where he was going with the question. “I’m not sure,” I replied.
When we reached the wall, it was a simple matter of jumping up and pulling ourselves over. I felt better outside of the witches’ wards. The fact that they couldn’t tell where we were any longer was reassuring.
I led us along the path through the forest. It was easy to smell Isley’s scent on the trees and bushes we past, but the ozone odor of the coming rain strengthened. If the storm began, my ability to track her outside of my wolf form would be decimated.
Virgo ran his hands over the tops of grass stalks that had been allowed to grow long near the wall.
“I get the feeling there’s something more they want from Isley.” At my questioning look, he said, “They may be worried about her finding trouble, but I get the feeling it’s more that they need whatever they unlocked of her abilities. They need whatever being an elemental can do for them.”
I processed that as we walked. “You mean they want her to fight in this coven war with the rest of us?”
He nodded. “I think so.” That the thought bothered him was clear by his expression. He shook his head and said in an apologetic tone, “We didn’t bring her here to involve her in it.”
“I know,” I replied. “We just need to make sure she knows that she has a choice.” I didn’t mention that I could smell the burnt wood odor of fear along with her signature scent. Whatever made her run, this wasn’t just a want to get away. It was a need.
Drops began to patter along the leaves and the ground in a quiet cadence.
“Great,” I muttered.
Virgo glanced at me. “What’s wrong?”
I pointed at the clouds that blocked out the rising sun. “It’ll wash away what I can smell in this form.”
“It’s also not getting any lighter,” Virgo replied. “The clouds are thick.”
He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and pressed a button. A light shone from the back of it.
